


Sick Day

by atari_writes



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atari_writes/pseuds/atari_writes
Summary: A small drabble wherein Frank comforts his sick sweetie





	Sick Day

Achoo! The sneeze wracks your body, making Max jump and look at you from his doggy bed.

“Ah, fuck,” you mutter, holding a hand to your nose and searching for the tissue box with the other. “Gross as shit.” Your nasally voice is muffled by your fingers, but it still sounds absolutely pitiful. 

You finally find the box of tissues half buried under a blanket. You hurriedly wipe your nose, then toss it onto Frank’s nightstand where it joins the others in your tissue graveyard. You fall back against the mountain of pillows you’ve collected against the headboard and sigh. Allergy season sucked balls.

Every inch of your body aches, and your nose would not. Stop. Itching. You’re sure it looked red and raw and disgusting by now. You groan again.

“Ah, fuck me!”

A low laugh sounds from the doorway to your bedroom. “I dunno if I wanna. You’re kind of—snotty.”

You sit up and see Frank standing in the doorway, duffel bag dropped at his boots. He’s dirty and messy, but you couldn’t care less; you feel like shit and you need him. You pout. “Francis, I’m sick!” You hold out your arms to him. “Come be nice to me!”

He rolls his eyes and toes his boots off. “You’re not sick, baby. ‘s just allergies.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead, but slips away to change before you can grab him and force him down to you.

You collapse back against your pillows and frown after him. “Fraaaancis!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Be patient, baby. Gotta get out of these gross clothes.” He walks into the bathroom to change, leaving you, lonely and needy.

You groan and go back to watching TV, trying to ignore the fact that Frank’s disrobing a few feet away and you can’t enjoy it. 

Eventually your tired and allergy riddled mind loses focus and you turn back to the TV. You’re so engrossed that you don’t hear Frank come out of the bathroom and slip into bed behind you. He slings his arm around your middle and snakes the other under your shoulders, pulling you into the curve of his body.

You make a soft sound and rest your head on his chest. “Mm, how was your night?”

Frank grunts and kisses the side of your head. “Pretty good. Killed a few shitbags, punched Red a couple times.” He looks down at you, and the side of his mouth quirks up at your nasally laugh. “What about you, baby girl? You feelin’ better?”

You sigh and snuggle further into him. “I dunno. My eyes are itchy and my nose is stuffy and I can’t stop sneezing.” 

Frank makes an aww sound, then leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I hate when my baby feels shitty.”

Your stomach flutters at his words; my baby. You smile and lean in to kiss him, but just as you’re leaning in, your face screws up in an oncoming sneeze. You quickly reach for the tissues and sneeze into one just in time. 

“Ah, fuck.”

Frank winces. “That could have been really fucking gross.”

You groan and elbow his ribs. “Fuck you.”

“If you’re lucky.” He smirks and you smack him again.

“You’re so gross.” You hand him the balled up tissues. “Put these on your nightstand.”

“Um, why mine?” He asks, but takes them from you anyways.

“Cause it’s gross and I don’t want them on mine.”

“Oh my god,” he mutters. He drops the tissues and turns back over, immediately pulling you back into his body.

You moan into his chest. “I feel like shit, Franky.” 

He kisses the top of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair. “I know, baby girl.” You both lay in silence for a little bit. You sniff every few seconds, but the soft sounds of the TV and Frank’s fingers in your hair are lulling you into an easy sleep.

“What the hell are you watching, baby?”

You laugh, remembering what you’d been watching. “It’s called My Strange Addiction.”

“Shit, baby. That lady is literally eating tires. Like. Rubber tires. That’s some gross shit.”

“Mmm. It makes me feel better. ‘Cause I may be gross right now but at least I’m not that gross.”

He lets out a loud, deep laugh. “Wow. Okay. I mean, that makes sense I guess.”

“Mhmm. Now shhh, I was almost asleep.”

Frank laughs and pulls your hair back from your forehead so he can plant a kiss there. “Okay, baby girl. Go to sleep. I’ll hold ya.”

“Thank you, Franky,” you mumble into his bare chest. “You’re the best.”

“I know I am, baby. I know.”


End file.
